


Of Bourbon and Tootsie Pops

by thegoodmarble



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Casual Sex, Drunk Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 03:29:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14907462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegoodmarble/pseuds/thegoodmarble
Summary: Diane and Will with bourbon and the age old question "how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?"*This is a Diane/Will a.k.a. LockNer fanfic where they actually have sex. If you do not like this particular pairing be smart--do not read.





	Of Bourbon and Tootsie Pops

**Author's Note:**

  * For [baranskini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baranskini/gifts).



> This is a gift to Kinkmekingston because she is as persistent as she is talented.

There was something about watching the way her hair brushed the collar of her pristine white oxford blouse that was getting to him more than it actually should. She had left the top three buttons undone, maintaining a teasing demureness to the way she wore what really should be a rather plain work ensemble as she had paired her oxford with a plain black Armani skirt. The rather plain outfit worked for her well enough as the skirt seemed to hug the lower half of her body in all the right places and the patch of skin she had left to peek between where the fabric met over her chest left something of a promise for anyone who dared to look.

Well, he was looking. And he was enjoying the promises the clothes on her body were singing to him.

She sat there not too far from him, hair loose and her designer skirt riding up her thighs as she leaned against one end of the couch, her legs stretched out and shoes long abandoned leaving her surprisingly dainty feet bare. 

He watched her with clear, sharp dark eyes, the copious amounts of alcohol hardly affecting his rather tough constitution while she slowly spiraled gracefully into intoxication. With every sip from the tumbler that hung loosely between immaculately kept nails, her eyes seemed to glow fetchingly and he was starting to think the more bourbon he poured, the higher her skirt slipped up her gorgeous legs.

Will knew he really shouldn’t but that night he wasn’t enough of a gentleman not to give in the urge to facilitate that.

His own legs were stretched out to rest on his coffee table as he sat in his favorite leather chair, shoes off and the bottle they’d been so thoroughly enjoying nearing its final fate. His tie had long been abandoned and his own shirt had already more than three buttons left undone and the arms messily rolled up his forearms.

“How many does it take?” he drawled out casually, dark eyes following her every move appreciatively. He was no stranger to her in this state and he had no problem handling her in it.

“Hmm?” the pleasant hum came deep within her and she smiled lazily at him, running her fingers through her hair. She brought the glass to her lips again and easily drained it of its contents.

“Tootsie pops,” he said simply, shamelessly watching the way her throat moved as she swallowed. This isn’t the first time he’s found himself thinking of her this way. But he’s never been this careless about it either and he wondered for a moment if he too was starting to give in to the amber liquid that was rapidly running through his system.

She arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him before breaking out into a wide grin, “What?”

“Oh, you know,” he smiled, bringing the bottle up from where he had left it on the floor for his convenience. “How many licks does it take?”

Diane stopped, her tongue darting out unconsciously between her lips to swipe at her bottom lip. She did that a lot, he knew and he also knew she had absolutely no idea just how much of a habit that was for her and how it tended to affect dark creatures like him. It was surprising to realize that at first, this idea that someone so self-aware and controlled as her would not realize this about herself but he’s been around her long enough to know her and her tricks. This wasn’t one of them.

“I don’t know,” she said innocently and raised her empty glass in his direction. “We could find out...I suppose. Where does one get Tootsie Pops?”

He smirked lightly and moved from his comfortable position and stood up, bottle in hand and moved to pour her another shot. There was always something so amusing about her when she was inebriated.

She laughed lightly as he sat heavily on the coffee table next to her, turning to look at him with those bright blue eyes of hers. She handed him her glass with an appreciative smile, “Are these the kinds of things that the great Will Gardner thinks about in the dark?”

“You could say that,” he replied easily as he poured. “It’s a curiosity of sorts.”

“It is,” she nodded, looking at him expectantly as he held her drink in his hand.

Instead, he brought her glass to his lips, taking a long drink and watched with amusement as her eyes flashed with both surprise and light indignation. He grinned, swallowing deeply and still kept the glass in his hand.

“Darling, don’t bogart the bourbon,” she teased with a deep chuckle.

He laughed and handed her the drink back and watched as she downed the rest of it, “Now who’s bogarting the bourbon.”

“Well, it is my glass,” her tone was playfully haughty as she cut her eyes in his direction. “So, do we find out?”

“Find out what?” he smiled.

“How many licks does it take,” she laughed lightly, giving him a sharp playful look. She handed him back her empty glass once more then she arched her back, pushing her hair back and gathered her them behind her, lifting the golden strands off the back of her neck. Her eyes were closed as she so very much in a catlike way stretched upwards with a happy sigh.

Will watched, his eyes growing dark as her skirt inched up higher and her blouse pulled from the waist of it, exposing a strip of creamy white skin. When she was so unguarded and relaxed, she was a sight to behold and he knew he had her all to himself this way more often than most people.

“I wonder about many things that I can do with my tongue,” he said casually, taking the bottle and took a healthy swig from it.

Her eyes shot open and she looked at him, the smile gone and the haze of inebriation lifting just ever so slightly. She brought her hands down from the tangle she’d left them in her hair.

“Will Gardner, you little slut,” she said after a moment, laughter erupting from her lips and she playfully snatched the bottle from him. 

There was something so inexplicably erotic watching her toss her head back and take a long swig straight from the bottle. It hit him straight in the groin and left him shifting in his perched position from his coffee table.

“And you are a tease, Miss Lockhart,” he growled at her mildly.

She cut her eyes to him, swallowing deeply and pulled the bottle away from her lips. Blue eyes flashed as if she had been challenged and the stunning orbs darkened like gems set next to a white-hot flame. She parted her lips in a pout and tilted her head slightly, “Do you really want to play that game, Will?”

Drunk on half a bottle of bourbon and she was still very sharp, that much was clear.

Will smiled. He did. He really did. He hated that game but he wanted to play it with her. He liked playing with fire and Diane Lockhart personified fire.

He took the bottle from her hand and finished what little she left him while she pulled her legs back and folded them against her chest. Her skirt rode up impossibly higher, straining against her thighs and she gave him the most innocent look that left him shifting in place once more.

Will looked down at the bottle in his hand for a moment before placing it on the coffee table next to him then moved to take the place her legs finally left unoccupied. He turned to face her and she simply blinked at him with eyes that seemed so impossibly bigger now. 

“You started it,” he said simply, pronouncing every syllable.

Diane smiled wickedly then slowly shifted with the grace of a cat until she was on her knees next to him. He tried to look like he could care less but then she slipped one leg over his thighs, pushing his arms back to make room for herself.

“I didn’t start anything,” she leaned down until her face was next to his and her lips were close enough to his ear for him to feel her breath. He suppressed a shudder, fighting the urge to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to him. She positioned her knees parted enough to avoid touching him and had, in fact, left nothing of herself touching him at all.

“Yes, you did,” he growled, nuzzling slightly at her hair. Her hair smelled of apples and it swept straight up into his nostrils and left him feeling hazier than before. He closed his eyes, trying hard to stay in the moment. 

“Trust me, Will,” she purred languidly into his ear. “If I was starting something, there would definitely be no doubt about it.” She pulled back to look down on him with a bewitching smile and placed a hand on his chest.

And before he could say anything she was pushing off of him and was suddenly pulling her other leg back from the other side of him and got to her feet. She laughed at the dumbfounded look on his face, arms left hanging at his sides and knees parted with a telltale lump on his lap. 

“You don’t want to play this game,” she chuckled, standing over him with that same bewitching smile. “Trust me, Will. You don’t.”

She began to turn away from him but he stumbled out of he haze she had all but thrown him into and managed to catch her wrist. Diane stopped, startled and gave him a curious look. 

“I want to play,” he said simply and clearly, his dark eyes looking right at her.

She didn’t say anything though with a dangerous glint in her eyes, she simply reached behind her and unlatched the hook behind her skirt and let the expensive fabric drop to the ground. He didn’t have it in him to act nonchalant anymore, drinking in the sight of delicate black lace peeking out from underneath the crisp white oxford. She bent her knee and placed it next to him once more and knelt over his lap. This time, she left her thighs pressed against his, her hair falling over her shoulders, her hands gripping the back of the couch and looked down at him lasciviously. 

“What’re you doing, Diane?” he said, attempting to alert her to what was about to happen just in case she broke through the haze of inebriation and decided they’d gone far enough. He wanted to give her the opportunity to say no before he shamelessly took advantage of her.

“Starting it,” she replied sultrily, the words pulled deeply from her throat.

Will reached up and curved his hand around her slim waist, grasping her oxford and pressing his hands against her to feel her warm skin through the starched material.

“You are so wasted,” he said darkly.

“And you’re so sober,” she clicked her tongue at him playfully. She lowered her head, brushing her lips against his with the barest of touches and smiled when she felt his mouth move underneath her.

That was all he needed. 

He tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her down firmly, ending her teasing and any and all hesitation that was left hovering between them. 

“I’ll take this as consent, Mr. Gardner,” she said huskily.

“You are too drunk to consent,” he bit out.

But she already had her lips against his in a bruising kiss, forcing his head back against the leather with the urgency of her mouth. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him at the insistent contact, pliant under her touch when she probed his lips with her tongue and kissed him like she was trying to drown out whatever doubts that were left swimming in their inebriated minds. Everything below his belt tightened and his hands grew impossibly tighter around her.

There was a certain level of shamelessness in this when she was completely drunk and uninhibited but he wasn’t enough of a gentleman to take the high road and put a stop to this. Not when he was pushing her blouse off her shoulders that left her smooth, hot skin for the taking.

She placed soft warm hands on the sides of his neck, pressing her fingertips into the sensitive pressure points, stroking his skin until he gave a low growl through his teeth. She smiled impishly at him and moved her hand away only to replace them with her mouth, biting and licking with just the right amount of roughness that left him panting against her.

He brazenly ran his hands over her thighs, brushing his thumbs between her legs over his lap, touching just enough to spark the passion a little more. When she gasped quietly, he snaked his hands around her back and pulled her shoulders back, drawing lace bra straps down her shoulders.

She laughed softly, almost mocking, and her breath brushed against his ear that sent chills down his spine. His hips bucked underneath her unexpectedly and his fingers fumbled against her back.

“A little too much bourbon for lingerie?” she purred against his ear, her laugh deep and resonant and oozing of sex. She bit gently on his earlobe, slipping her hand slowly down his chest and pricked her nails into his torso through his shirt.

Always up for a challenge and ways to prove her wrong, he lowered a hand without a word and flicked his index finger and thumb lazily over the hooks of her brassiere. He looked right into her eyes and unsnapped them loose and tossed it carelessly away.

She laughed, fumbling with the hem of his shirt but he pushed her hands away, running his own hand up to her shoulders and let his eyes roam over her brazenly. She shifted in his lap in retaliation, grinding down against him—too hard for comfort but too gentle to satisfy yet full of promise and intent of everything that was to come.

He slipped his hands on the back of her neck and pulled her down to him, her naked torso pressing against his light blue button down. Glaring sharply into her vixen eyes, he pulled her in for a deep bruising kiss while his other hand slipped on her derriere and pressed her against him tightly. He didn’t let her go until she was breathless against him, panting heavily in his arms. He smirked, squeezing one cheek tightly and watched the desire cloud her eyes and the breath leave her lips.

Pressing his hand on the side of her face, he looked right into her eyes and loosened his hold then slipped his hand around her waist. He moved his hand from her face, brushing her hair back and let his hand slip down her skin, pausing lightly to feel her pulse against his fingertips—all the while keeping his eyes on hers. 

Drunk as she was, she tried to keep her eyes on him as much as she could, blinking slowly and lazily as she sat panting in his lap. Her eyes flickered slightly when he moved his hand from her neck down to her chest, stopping just right over her heart. She glanced at his hand then looked at him again, watching, waiting. What started out as a game was starting to feel like something else altogether and even in her bourbon addled state she could understand something was shifting. 

Will moved his hand lower and cupped her breast, kneading at her flesh and brushing his fingertips over a stiffening peak. Her eyelashes fluttered and she leaned into him, seeking more pressure and moaned softly into his ear. But he wanted her to be loud so he pulled his hand back and replaced it with his mouth, tongue darting out to taste her skin and teeth grazing at her enough to send a jolt of electricity through her system. She gasped, her fingers gripping at his hair, twisting in his arms though he kept her tightly in place.

She fumbled for his shirt again and this time, he let her. He pulled her tighter against him, pushing up against her and watched as her bottom lip trembled and she let out a soft keen. Her fingers shook against the buttons as he continued to grind up against her, pressing her hips against his. He was aching to feel her—all of her.

“Fuck,” he heard her hiss and suddenly she pulled at his shirt and let the last two buttons fly. 

He chuckled, “I like this shirt.”

“I don’t care,” she muttered, pressing her breasts against his bare chest, mouth draining the oxygen from his lungs like a siren’s kiss. She tasted like bourbon and mint and she smelled like floral perfume with something spicy blended into her skin. He let his tongue run against her skin, tasting and nipping at every bit of flesh he could get his mouth on.  
She shoved her tongue in his mouth, desperate to taste every inch of him and leave him choking for breath. She felt loose and dizzy, wanting him inside her but she held back because she knew the chances of her being this drunk and uninhibited were unlikely to reoccur again. She wanted to draw this out, to revel in this passionate clinch brimming with reckless abandon and shameless want.

Her fingers tightened their grip in his hair when he moved aside the bothersome fragile silk and lace of her panties and slipped a finger inside her. He pressed hard and gentle then thrust another finger in then cupped his hand against her. She moaned against his lips, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip and rocked against his hand, pressing herself against him heavily, seeking out friction.

Will smiled against her, his tongue darting out to taste her lips, feeling his own lip burn lightly at her playful nip. She cried out in frustration when she felt him freeze underneath her, his hand ceasing its movement just shy of completion.

“Don’t stop,” she hissed, breathless with her wet lips brushing the corner of his mouth. “Fuck, Will,” She bit her lip and ground her hips against his, desperate enough to try and force his hand. 

“Shh,” he slipped his hand into her hair, gripping at the strands lightly and tugged. She moaned against him, pressing her cheek against his with a pant. He nipped at her ear, chuckling when he felt her nails dig into his forearms, scratching at his skin. He groaned and gritted his teeth when he felt her warmth press against his confined erection.

“You minx,” he choked out and she let out a startled squeal when he suddenly had her on her back on the cold black leather, leaving her dizzy with the sudden change in their position. Hooking his fingers along the band of silk around her hips, he pulled and slipped them off easily. Then he curved a hand around one thigh and pulled her towards him until he was between her legs.

He was kneeling on the couch, running a greedy hand along one bare leg, eyes darkening as he took in every bit of flesh that had been so easily bared to him. He pressed his mouth against the side of one knee and made his way down, kissing and nipping at her skin. 

She pushed a hand into her hair, fingers trembling as it tangled in her damp golden locks, arching her back with her eyes shut tightly.

Will smirked and immediately knew it would be all too easy. He bent down, one hand splaying over her stomach while the other kept hold of her thigh. He flicked his tongue out experimentally and smiled when he felt her shiver and moan from deep within her throat. He continued what he let his hands left unfinished, tasting and nipping and licking, pinning her down when she began to thrash underneath him. She curled a leg around his neck with a keening moan, her back arching impossibly more and his name was ripped from her throat with a groan.

He held her down, patiently tending to her despite her thrashing and let his tongue slip deep into her depths, his fingers bruising against her thigh and his hand pressing down on her torso with a vengeance. His teeth grazed against her once and he soothed the delicious burn with the pad of his tongue and then that was all it took.

She choke out his name with a sob, her hand blindly reaching for his hair after leaving what she was sure were gouges on the black leather underneath her. Her toes curled and she gasped, a powerful shudder running through her body as she unraveled for him with a whimper.

“God, yes,” Diane sighed, breathing heavily as her eyes shot open. “Oh, god...yes.”

He smirked, looking up at her with an impish grin and pressed a kiss next to her navel. Then he sat up, unsnapping his belt and unbuttoned his pants, watching her as she laid there, spent and trying to get herself back together after shattering so beautifully with his touch. Freeing himself, he moved his body over hers, slipping his hand between the couch and her body, hovering over her.

She tilted her head back and he watched the movement of her beautiful neck as she swallowed shakily. He slipped his other hand over her neck, giving her a dark intense look before bending down without preamble and kissed her deeply.

He was acutely aware she hadn’t recovered yet but he could taste her arousal in her lips as he kissed her. She lifted her hands, holding on to his torso, one set of nails digging into his lower back while the other latched on to the span of flesh on the side of his ribs. He growled when he felt the pinch of pain that came with her nails as she dragged them across his skin.

Will slipped his free hand around her waist, pinning her down once more and lowered himself to her, his hips trapping hers against the couch. His knees dug into the leather, keeping her in place and her legs parted for him. 

His hand was tight around her, to bruise and to mark, and he buried himself in her warmth and groaned her name with a curse at the feel of her, tight and wet around him. She moaned and threw her head back, pressing against the cushions with a loud moan. 

If he wasn’t wasted before, he most definitely was now.

He drew in a sharp breath and pulled back then thrust back in harder this time. He watched her eyes slide close and her lips redden as she bit down hard, muffling a cry behind swollen lips. Diane wrapped a leg around his waist, digging her heel into his back and with a stunning grace and flexibility, she pressed the other against his shoulder, skin slick with sweat sliding over his easily.

Whatever blood that was left above his waist pounded against his ears as he moved inside her, gritting his teeth in a valiant effort to make it last. He ran his hand up her leg, gripping her knee and pressed a kiss to her calf briefly. He resisted digging his teeth into the tender flesh, knowing in the state he was in he wouldn’t be able to control himself and end up drawing blood. Mumbled words spilled from her mouth and she arched her hips into his tightly, her muscles tightening with a delicious clench. 

Her nails scraped at his skin and unlike him, she felt no remorse at the chance of drawing blood. She let out a scream, her chest heaving and her body arching as another orgasm burned through her. She tightened around him, growing impossibly wetter and that all but eviscerated whatever control he had left, giving up with a scream of his own, thrusting harder and deeper through his own release, bruising her further as his body stiffened then convulsed with a groan, his release flooding her with warmth. His continued thrusts and his fingers pressing against her one last time left her panting and thrashing, keening and moaning once more.

Will collapsed over her, stopping just short of completely falling right into her with a shaking forearm taking the brunt of his weight. He was left catching his breath, leaving himself still inside her and her hands blindly reaching for his waist.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against her shoulder. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “That.”

“I’m gonna crush you, wait,” he groaned and finally allowed himself to slip out and she moaned, her nails scratching feebly at his ribs. Feeling himself slip from her walls sent one final electric shock through him, causing him to moan out her name once more. “You’re a fucking minx.”

“Huh, okay,” she said absently, still caught in the haze of booze and sex. He could ask her to donate a kidney and she’d say yes without thinking.

Will sat up, shaking the cobwebs from his brain and looked at her. He reached for her hand, pulling her up and she went with him like a ragdoll, allowing him to pull her to him and slowly lowered them back down the opposite end of the couch.

She rolled on to her side, pushing him fully on his back and collapsed on top of him with a sigh. She left her head on his shoulder, too spent to care, too spent to think and she lay there, her hair a mess of damp golden locks across his chest.

He left his hand across her back, pressing her fevered skin against his just to make sure she wouldn’t fall and curled his other hand on her forearm, holding her gently. His touch was a lot softer, a stark contrast to the bruising grip from their passionate embrace. She smelled good against him, her perfume mixing with the bourbon and sex in an inviting scent, each complimenting the other. 

Diane laid there, trying to catch her breath, eyes closed and body humming on top of his.

“So,” he drawled hoarsely. He chuckled, his body rumbling underneath hers, “How many licks was that, Diane?”

She groaned, shaking her head slightly and ran a lazy hand through her hair before letting it drop heavily on his chest. 

Will reached for her face and gently pulled her towards him for a kiss. He kissed her hard and she returned his kiss with just as much fervor like she needed to taste him again. Her eyes opened and he pulled back, brushing his lips against her temple before settling his head back down on the arm of his much abused couch.

Her brow furrowed and she looked at him with heavy lidded eyes. He ran his hands down her spine and pressed her tighter against him until she lifted her leg and slipped it over his. She sighed, shaking her head slightly before simply settling back against his shoulder once more.

“That was really good,” she said huskily, her throaty voice stirring his lower stomach again.

He smiled, “Yeah. It was.”

She groaned, glaring at him for a moment before burying her face in his skin.

“What?” he asked, frowning and looking at her.

Diane sighed, “I’m not going to remember a fucking thing in the morning.”

He chuckled, shifting slightly and dragged her up until she was over his chest. He settled her over him, slipping his hand though her hair while his other hand slowly let his thumb glide over her bottom lip. He gave her an arrogant smirk, raising an eyebrow at her.

“You’ll remember,” he rumbled, his eyes darkening with arousal. “You will definitely remember.”

Will was sure there was not enough bourbon in the world for Diane Lockhart to forget that kind of sex—and if she tried to then he had no problem reminding her.


End file.
